


Fondue is just cheese and bread, my friend

by tatch



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Anxiety, First Date, Fluff, Fondue, Gabriel is worried, Insomnia, Jack has a 'couple' secrets, Love Confessions, M/M, Marvel references because the author is a nerd, Reaper76 Free For All Secret Santa, Shyness, Some angst, Sort Of, They're fonduing, Whales as a remedy, or is it the whales really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 16:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatch/pseuds/tatch
Summary: After twenty years leading Overwatch, Gabriel thinks it might be time to try to do something about the feelings he has had for his best friend since SEP.Better late than never.





	Fondue is just cheese and bread, my friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mo-Mouse (abyssmalDeath)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abyssmalDeath/gifts).



 

His hand stops about an inch from knocking on the door, uncertainty preventing him from letting his knuckles call out to the person inside.

Is this really a good idea?

 

He does have a plan in case his best friend doesn't share his feelings but- does he really want to try to change how things are? What if, in trying to get more, he loses what he already has?

 

A part of him knows it's just nerves, knows he’s just nervous. But the rest of him is just winding tighter by the minute spent hovering right outside his partner’s door.

 

What if he fucks up.

What if Jack's not there.

What if something goes wrong.

What if there’s an emergency.

What if the restaurant doesn’t have any room left.

 

Okay, this is getting ridiculous.

 

He already called the place, as soon as he had realized he wouldn’t be able to free himself for lunch, and had asked if they could move his reservation from lunch to dinner. They had agreed (’Of course, Strike Commander, sir, everyone knows you’re a busy man and when you didn’t show up on time, we figured you had had an emergency of some kind’) and while he’d been surprised (that was probably the first time being Overwatch's public face had had some good ) he had also not commented and had thanked whoever he’d had on the phone before hanging up.

As for emergencies, he had taken a day off for both of them. Hence the mountain of paperwork he’d suddenly been buried under, since apparently getting the Strike Commander and Blackwatch Commander off duty at the same was akin to putting Overwatch in a dire situation. Anyway, it was out of his hands for the next twenty-four hours. Things would be in Gerard and Ana’s hands until tomorrow evening.

And Jack _is_ there. He came back the previous night and wasn't scheduled to leave until a couple days.

He could always fuck up and ruin everything but… well, first, that's in his own two hands, and second, if he doesn't knock, he will never know. But not breaking the status quo sounds almost good all of a sudden. Anything to not have to deal with the crushing deception his anxiety whispers he is bound to be faced with.

 

In the end, the decision is made for him.

"Gabe? What are you doing here?"

 

Gabriel turns toward Jack, who wasn't in his quarters (of course he wasn't, he's got a job to do, Reyes, like everyone else.) and gives him a quick once over.

As usual, he's wearing clothes that look like they're both a size too small and a size too large _somehow_. Jack’s also wearing gloves (was he training?) that disappear under the long sleeves of the loose unzipped sweatshirt he's wearing. He's got that goddamn beanie on his head, the one that used to be Gabriel's before he gifted it to the man when he'd realized PR wouldn't let him keep it. 'Standards' as Gabrielle had called it. Whatever. So he'd given it to Jack, who had started by wearing it only at meetings and such, but was now wearing it constantly. Gabriel can't remember the last time he's seen Jack's blond hair, aside from a wild strand escaping or wayward hairs on his neck. Fucking beanie.

 

Gabriel shrugs, swallowing his nervosity with the mastery of a man used to give speeches in front of hundreds of people without caring what they think or say, and ignores the little voice that whispers that it's Jack, it's different because he _does_ care what Jack thinks.

"Wanna go out to eat?"

Jack blinks slowly.

"It's barely three in the afternoon, Gabe."

_Yeah, right._

"Tonight, I mean." Gabriel passes a hand down his face and sighs. "Wanted to go for lunch but…"

"Paperwork and bureaucracy?"

Gabriel grunts an assent and gets a laugh and a shrug in return.

"Sure, why not. Let me shower and take a nap and I'm all yours, 'kay?"

Gabriel does _not_ react to that (he doesn’t, shut up) and sidesteps so Jack can unlock his door and get inside. Which is exactly what his partner does, with a 'come in' flick of his wrist and a partially yawned "there should be coffee left in the pot, if you want some" as he walks in.

 

In the time it takes Gabriel to fill a mug, reheat it, dig around for cream to add to said beverage and flops in the couch to wait for his best friend to be done showering, Jack's in and out of the shower, still wearing a too tight tee under a loose sweat shirt and pants. That fucking beanie is still perched atop his head.

He flops in the couch next to him with a grunt.

A moment passes, as Jack sighs and relaxes into the cushions, Gabriel sipping his coffee slowly, before the currently off-duty Blackwatch Commander speaks.

 

"Wildlife documentary?"

Gabriel snorts.

"Sure. Which one?"

"Whales."

"Insomnia that bad?"

Jack sags and his expression crumbles a bit, revealing that he looks just as tired and stretched thin as Gabriel feels. He's just better at hiding it.

Gabriel grabs the remote with a quiet nod.

"Definitely whales."

He doesn't miss the look of gratitude Jack sends his way or the way he shuffles out of habit, ready to plop his feet on Gabriel's thighs, before freezing. Gabriel lifts his hands, holding respectively his mug (one of Jack's 'cleanest' mug) and the remote, to free the space and there's only a beat of hesitancy before Jack's feet settle in his lap, warm as always.

"I'll wake you up when it's time for dinner?"

A nod, Gabriel presses play, the documentary starts playing and Jack is out like a light within the next minute.

 

Gabriel would have offered his chest, as they both knew it was far more comfortable than the couch's armrest, but Jack got clingy when he slept. And the few times he'd slept against Gabriel rather than the way he is currently laying, Jack had squeezed him in his arms, as if Gabriel was his own personal teddy bear. Or as if he was afraid of his best friend vanishing in his sleep. Either way, once Jack had woken up, he'd been mortified and flustered and had apologized abundantly. Each and every time.

Not that Gabriel minded being cuddle-squeezed.

He really, really didn't.

The one thing he did mind whenever that happened was the heat. Jack ran hot as a furnace during the day but _somehow_ he managed to run even hotter when he slept. And hell, it messed with Gabriel's body, triggering a variety of reactions that ranged from 'I need to get away from this or second degree burns might happen' to sudden sleepiness induced by the consistent and invasive heat. He had never moved, not wanting to wake Jack up, which meant he had sweated more than after a decent workout. It had given him a good excuse to skip back to his quarters and take care of the other result that having Jack pressed fully against him had on his body though.

But what he likes most is knowing that Jack trusts him.

Gabriel had missed this, this intimacy. These days, they don't have much free time, their schedules are quite different, and while they do see each other often, during meetings or crossing paths in hallways, it's different. Impersonal, professional. Not that Jack isn't as friendly as he's always been, it's just … not the same. Having Jack fast asleep by his side, as Gabriel watches something quiet and monotonous, has always been something Gabriel cherished.

 

He watches the documentary quietly, more focused on the peaceful expression on Jack's face than the running commentary he has heard about a million times already.

Eventually the documentary comes to an end and Gabriel gently rouses Jack, getting a sleepy, disgruntled and pouty face (that is way too adorable, holy fuck) for his efforts.

"Gabe…?"

"Dinner outside?" He answers softly. "Said I'd wake you up, remember."

Jack grunts and rubs at his eyes. "Right."

He pulls his legs back to himself and passes a hand down his face, clearly trying to wake up some. Gabriel chuckles fondly.

"Take it you slept well?"

Jack's glare is almost offended. "Always when … you know. Whales." There's an unspoken ' _and you being there_ ' that brings warmth to Gabriel's insides.

Or maybe he's imagining it. Shit.

"You okay, Gabe?"

"Yeah, yeah. Meet you in the garage in ten?"

Jack grumbles a curse, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Give me twenty and I'll be there."

"Deal."

 

* * *

 

The ride there is quiet due to the circumstances of it. They're riding Gabriel's motorbike, helmets on, Jack's arms around his waist, his best friend's- hell who is he kidding –his decades old crush's front pressed against his back for stability. It's a short ride, but every second of it is exhilarating. The rush of the wind against his arms, the purr of the bike between his legs, Jack's presence and nothing, no-one around but the both of them as they speed off the small road.

 

It's perfect.

Gabriel pulls up in front of the restaurant, intent on dropping Jack off as he goes to park the bike, when a valet (an actual valet, what the hell) gives him a token in exchange for his keys, and leaves to go park his bike.

 

_Well, fuck._

Gabriel should have known better than to ask Lacroix for a fancy restaurant to go to. 'Decent' Gérard had called it, 'I know the owner, I can get you a reservation, it's no big deal' Gérard had said. This isn't decent, it’s downright classy as fuck. Gabriel wants to facepalm. There went his plans of downplaying the importance of the dinner if things didn't go the way he desperately wished they would.

He swallows, literally and figuratively, and waves for Jack (who's got both brows raised in curiosity) to come with him inside. There's a server waiting near a big book. He asks if they have a reservation and directs them to get their coat checked as soon as he is done looking for Gabriel's name in the restaurant's reservations register.

 

Jack gives him a borderline bewildered look as he hands over his battered leather jacket. The valet stops him before he can leave.

"Your beanie, sir."

Jack blinks.

"What about it?"

"I'm sorry sir, but our establishment has a strict policy concerning coats and hats and clothing of the like."

Jack mulls over it, muscle playing in his jaw, but sighs after a handful of seconds, like he just took a big decision, and takes the damn thing off.

 

And Gabriel stills. At least, his brain does. His body follows the server that came to direct them to their table, and he is distantly aware of skipping past the main sitting area to go up a flight of stairs and reach a small and quiet room, that only holds three other tables besides theirs. The server leaves and returns a second later with menus.

Gabriel's mind is still reeling.

That fucking beanie- Jack had been using the damn thing to hide- There's a scar above his temple, that goes from the side of his forehead almost all the way to the back of his head.

 

_What the hell, Jack._

 

The expression on Jack's face is that careful blankness, patient sharpness Gabriel has only seen during meetings, the ones at which he would show unexpectedly. The ones that Gabriel had a bad feeling about, and that would have probably have ended up badly without Jack making the helpful comment here and there. Helpful comments about things Gabriel knew _nothing_ about. He had asked once Jack's reply had been: "It's better if you don't know. If you don't know, they can't use it against you, and I can use it against them." Jack had smiled, a bit too tight, a bit too fake. "Just trust me, okay? I've got it covered."

Gabriel pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his temper in check.

How long-

No. No, that's not the important point here.

 

"Were you ever going to tell me?" He asks quietly, eyes closed.

"… Probably not. I didn't want to worry you." Jack's voice is equally quiet.

 

Gabriel's eyes snap open.

"You didn't want _to worry me_." His voice rises and he cuts himself off before it gets too loud. When he speaks again, it's with a restrained tightness laced to his words. "You think I don't worry? I worry about you every time you go on an op. I worry every time you don't come back as scheduled, every time you're away too long or when you vanish off the map for weeks. I worry about you all the goddamn time, Jack.”

"I'm not gonna stop doing my job, Gabriel."

Jack's face is a mask of impassibility.

 

"That's not that's not what I meant, dammit!"

 

Because that's not the problem.

Not really.

 

"You asked for my trust, Jack. You asked me to trust you but _you won't trust me_ ? How am I supposed to take that? How did you _think_ I was going to take that?"

Guilt creeps up on Jack's face, his facade of impassibility crumbling away.

"Shit Gabe, I didn't mean-"

Jack sighs and looks away, passing a hand in his hair, fingers barely slowing as they brush over the scar (and that tells Gabriel that the wound is old enough that Jack is used to it being there.)

"I just-" He swallows, glances Gabriel's way before looking away again. "I didn't want you to look at me like you are right now. Like I'm something fragile. Like I need to be protected."

 

_What._

The muscle of Jack's jaw tenses in the second of silence that weighs heavily between them.

"You entrusted Blackwatch to me. And I love this job! I love it and I'm _good at it_."

Blue eyes bore into Gabriel's golden brown ones, as if daring him to refute.

_As if he was going to._

 

Jack continues after a beat.

"I… If taking a bullet in the arm will save the life of one my agents, I'll do it."

 

_Of course he will, that idiot._

"You can't save everyone, Jack." Gabriel whispers softly.

Jack's answering grin is crooked, a lopsided thing that hurts to look at.

"I know that." Silence for a handful of seconds before Jack's voice returns, softer than before. "But I can chip the casualties numbers down a bit."

There's an unspoken 'because I get hurt where others would die' that hangs in the air between them and Gabriel sighs after a tense minute.

 

"You're an idiot, you know that." He complains half-heartedly, his tone more fond than annoyed. "Fuck, I can never stay mad at you for long."

"I'm aware." Jack grins, not quite beaming at him but almost. Almost.

"Jackass." More half-hearted complains.

"You love it." Jack teases.

"Nope, definitely not." _Who is he even trying to convince._

"Uhu, like that's gonna convince anyone." _Dammit._

"Shut up."

 

They laugh, matching grins on both their faces.

 

The server resurfaces right then to take their order. This place really is something. Good enough staff that they picked on the tension between them and waited for it to blow over before coming back to them? Gabriel isn't sure whether he wants to punch Lacroix or kiss him. Okay maybe not _kiss_. But he might owe him a couple thanks. Tickets to whatever play Gérard's wife wants to go see next? That should do the trick.

 

Shit, with all that, he completely forgot to have a look at the damn menu. He shares a look with Jack, who seems just as lost as him. Well then.

"Do you have a 'menu of the day' here?"

 

The server beams.

"Of course, sir."

"We'll take two then." _There._

"Would you like drinks with that?" _Hum_.

"Beers. Whatever you think would go best with the food." Jack chimes in, saving him from answering with a remarkably intelligent 'uuuh'. The server beams again, like they just made his day. He scoots away with a promise of returning with their drinks soon.

A beat, then:

 

"Sorry." Jack smiles guiltily. "I should have told you but-"

 

"It's alright. I mean, I get your reasons." Gabriel shrugs a bit helplessly. "All I'm asking is that you don't keep me out of the loop anymore, okay? I'd rather know you got hurt and come to worry over your sorry ass than being kept in the dark."

Jack nods quietly.

"That's fair."

 

Quick smiles are exchanged and silence settles between them again, but it's easy and quiet, rather than this tense and angry thing.

 

Jack clears his throat. "So what's the occasion?"

_The what now?_

Gabriel's confusion must be evident because Jack hums and gives a flick of his wrist toward the room surrounding them.

"The restaurant? This is one hell of a fucking fancy place, Gabe."

_Fuck, right._

Gabriel feels his face heat up (hopefully it doesn't show too much) under Jack's inquisitive stare and thank fuck that it's at that moment that the server chooses to come back with their drinks. He presents the beers, waits for them to taste and approve of his choice, which they do, after an awkward second of wondering what the server was expecting of them and why the heck he was lingering around.

God, he needs that drink. He takes a long gulp, trying to gather his wits, his stomach tying itself all over again in stress.

 

_C'mon just tell him and be done with it._

 

Easy to say.

Not so easy to do.

 

Gabriel swallows thickly and turns back to Jack, only to freeze.

Jack has an expression on his face that he has never seen before, like a cat that just realized the pot of cream is within his reach and is three seconds away from either pouncing on it or purring contentedly.

He takes another nervous sip of his beer.

 

"So?"

"Mmmmh." Gabriel replies eloquently.

"Because, you know-" Jack drawls deliberately slowly, "-this looks an awful lot like you're trying to impress someone."

Wow, this beer is good. So good. And the color. So amazing. Wow.

 

A scent fills the air and a small battalion of servers show up with plates and small baskets and something that looks deceptively like a very small cauldron. There's something bubbling inside the cauldron (it may not be a cauldron, but it sure as hell looks like one) and the baskets are filled with bread. Gabriel snaps back to Jack as he hears him mumble something about a once in a lifetime opportunity.

 

Jack grins slowly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Gabriel Reyes, would you do me the honor of fonduing with me?"

 

His mouth opens to answer with a smooth 'what' but his brain grinds to a halt before any word can actually escape him.

 

_Wait._

_He has heard that expression before._

He rakes his memories and groans when the answer dawns onto him.

"You're such a nerd, I swear."

Jack chuckles and starts digging into the bread, breaking it into even pieces. He pushes the pile between them and carefully dips a bit of bread into the melted cheese. Gabriel waits for him to retrieve his piece of bread before dipping one of his own into the cauldron (caquelon, it's called a caquelon.)

"But fondue? Really?"

He gets an unconvinced stare and the slow rise of a single eyebrow in answer.

"If I'd waited for you to say anything, we'd still be here in twenty years." Jack points out.

_Fair enough._

Gabriel stuffs his mouth with the delicious cheese drowned piece of bread to prevent himself from saying anything dumb. Shit, it's good. Holy shit, it's so good. Fuck. He totally owes Lacroix.

"So. Fondue or not fondue?" Jack asks, expression guarded but hope dancing in his eyes.

Gabriel swallows his mouthful and whispers.

"Always."

 

And the way Jack beams at him, like the sun rising gloriously after an endless night, is worth all the stress and worry of the world.

 

* * *

 

As soon as they're back to base, Jack directs and drags him towards his quarters while mumbling that 'no-one will dare annoy him if they know what's good for them' at which point Gabriel comments that they're off-duty until a couple hours after noon, the next day. Since… he apparently forgot to mention it.

 

Jack stares at him as if Gabriel just told him he'd won the lottery. He licks his lips and mutters.

"Don't read anything into it, I know it's too fucking early to say it, but … fuck, I love you."

 

Gabriel snorts, waiting patiently as Jack returns to fumbling with the keypad, eager hands not managing to enter the code correctly.

"I'm not sure twenty something years still counts as early."

 

That stops Jack again. He blinks up, pulls Gabriel to him and suddenly, there's lips against his, a tongue in his mouth and a body crowding him against the wall.

 

Hell.

 

He groans, trying to pull Jack closer. Not that there's any space for it.

The door finally beeps and slides open, and they stumble inside, hands gripping and groping. Gabriel might be very focused on getting rid of the clothing that separates his hands from Jack’s skin and moving this to more horizontal horizons, but he doesn’t miss the way his partner wavers and almost slips on nothing.

 

“Jack? You okay?”

Jack blinks a few times, shakes his head, passes a hand down his face.

This looks a lot like-

“Jack. When’s the last time you had a real night of sleep?”

The way Jack looks guiltily away tells him everything he needs to know.

Gabriel makes quick work of his shirt and boots, then maneuvers Jack to the bedroom.

“C’mon man, let’s get you to bed.”

A protest starts weakly to form on Jack’s lips but Gabriel kisses it away, all while sitting then laying down on the bed, pulling his ~~-best friend-~~ boyfriend to lay flush against him.

“Sleep, I’ll still be there when you wake up.”

“You better be.” Jack mumbles sleepily, already on the verge of passing out.

Just how exhausted is he, to go from ready to dance the most horizontal of all tangos, to barely able to keep his eyes open, in less than five minutes?

 

Gabriel realizes suddenly that he hasn’t put any documentary on. Shit.

“Hang on, I gotta turn the tv on.”

A grumble, arms tighten around him, preventing him from moving.

“Dun need it.”

_What?_

“What?” _He’s so eloquent today, geez._

“You’re there. Dun need whales.”

Jack’s cheeks, or what he can see from where he is, are slightly pink.

 

_I’m the whales, holy fuck._

 

Gabriel tries to swallow the wave of emotion the revelation awakens within him. He hugs Jack tighter for a moment, committing the small happy whine he earns doing so to memory.

 

And that’s how he ends up with his own personal blanket supersoldier, sweating like a pig, tracing away scars he has never seen before gently, trying to not pass out from the sheer heat that emanates from Jack’s body.

Then again, he could let himself follow Jack into the sweet embrace of the Sandman.

 

It does sound like a good plan.

 

He’ll have time to learn all those new scars in the morning.

 

The thought warms him up in ways Jack’s blazing heat could never achieve.

 


End file.
